


Aconitum Noveboracense

by Jammit_Sammy



Series: Twitchy Witchy [1]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Wicca, Wiccan Stiles Stilinski, Witch Stiles Stilinski, meet cute, witch Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 18:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14361171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jammit_Sammy/pseuds/Jammit_Sammy
Summary: Stiles owns a metaphysical shop. Sam and Peter need a rare form of wolfsbane.





	Aconitum Noveboracense

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a series. But let me know what y'all think and what you'd like to see.
> 
> I'm also bending several things to fit my story. This neither completely lines up with real life magick practice, or show lore. It is, however, heavily based upon my experience as a witch.

The shop smelled strongly of incense and herbs, a smell that had always bothered Peter about the witches he had come into contact with. It was, however, unavoidable. Just like working with Sam Winchester was unavoidable.

Peter was actually quite tired of his alpha sticking him with the undesirables. Even though, as the right hand of the Hale pack, this was technically his job description. Just because it was his job, did not mean he had to like it.

While Peter sulked Sam looked around the shop. It was a small metaphysical store in the heart of Beacon Hills. While not the largest, or the most well-known, it was the closest. It was also the only United States based store that sold the rare form of wolfsbane that Peter and Sam were currently in search of, Aconitum noveboracense.

The store, as expected, was covered in the usual New Age Witch detritus that Peter so despised and made Sam uncomfortable. There wasn’t, however, any sign of plants. Or a person other than the two of them. Peter cast out his senses, picking up nothing. He had no doubt that the witch in charge was probably trying to make them squirm. In both men’s experience, witches had a startling propensity for being annoyingly cryptic and pseudo-mysterious.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a young person appeared. Peter could not tell if the young one was a male or female. Their features were highly androgynous covered in a dusting of light makeup. Their chest was surprisingly flat, but they had soft curves and were wearing a long, flowing dress.

“Can I help you?” The voice was rich and honey sweet. A male, then.

“Yes, we’re looking for the owner of the shop. We have an order under Hale.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Werewolves,” he muttered, knowing full well that Peter could hear him. “I’m the owner.” The boy, or man it seemed, said. “And I have your order right here in the back. Give me a moment.”

Peter and Sam both watched on in fascination as the young witch swished from the room, skirts trailing behind him.

“I expected… different,” Sam looked flustered, which Peter would find hilarious if he weren’t just as effected by the witch. He had obviously allowed his scent to come through, because Peter caught a whiff of sea brine and honeysuckle. Another odd thing about the witch. Most magic users smelled of ozone and burnt sugar.

Brought out of their daze by a tinkling laugh, both men turned to find a gorgeous redhead walking from the back with the witch.

“Stiles, you are such a nerd. I’m sure they won’t understand your Rocky and Bullwinkle reference.”

“But Lyds, he’s big and awkward. Just like Bullwinkle!” Stiles waved one hand around, safely holding the poisonous plant in the other.

Peter snickered. It definitely wasn’t the first time Sam had been compared to a moose. Sam on the other hand, scowled.

As Stiles was walking by, Peter took a long look at the boy’s shapely form. He was enjoying the view, when suddenly he was on his ass, a pale foot disappearing back underneath the sweeping fabric of the dress. It was Sam’s turn to snicker as Stiles walked away, like nothing had happened.

Lydia eyed Peter suspiciously as she walked by, and Peter growled as he stood. Something about her was off. Her scent was thin, as if it hadn’t quite manifested. It was the same watery scent that Peter picked up from most witches’ familiars. He had heard of familiars taking human form, but it was rare. So rare, that most believed it was a myth. This young witch couldn’t possibly be powerful enough to have allowed a spirit to manifest its own corporeal form.

Shaking himself, Peter noticed that Sam had been beckoned to the counter, where the young witch was carefully bagging the dried leaves. The pretty red head was perched on the counter, swinging her stiletto clad feet and chewing gum. Her black rose patterned dress perfectly contrasted Stiles’ white rose patterned one. And while hers was significantly tighter and shorter, it still looked just as elegant and stately.

"Now, I feel I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but be careful. This is poisonous to humans, and deadly to werewolves. I refuse to help your dumbasses if one of you gets hurt,” Stiles was wrapping up the two small bags of dried flower, and putting them into a paper bag with the shop name printed on the front.

“Yes, we are quite aware of the dangers of monkshood. Although, it wouldn’t hurt to lend me your number. In case something goes wrong,” Peter purred smoothly.

Twin snorts came from the two behind the counter. “I said I wasn’t helping. Get your big strong hunter to help you, Big Bad Wolf.”

Sam tensed up at the mention of his occupation. He hadn’t mentioned it to the witch, and he had never seen him before.

“Don’t worry. It’s the way you carry yourself. Plus I know your brother. Wildest night of my life,” Stiles paused and tapped his chin with a grin. “Wildest, pleasant, night of my life.”

Sam cringed, scent going sour at the mention of his brother and this beautiful creature. Peter was inclined to agree. The thought of another touching Stiles set his wolf on edge. And, no, that’s not good. Because Peter is the right hand. He does the things no one else wants to. The things no one else should. He can’t afford to fall in love. He isn’t worthy of being loved back. This would only lead to disaster.

Revelation having sufficiently ruined Peter’s flirty mood, he gathered up the bag, paid, and dragged Sam out. The youngest Winchester spluttered a goodbye, and that rich honey laugh followed them from the store.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream at me on tumblr lyds-and-stiles


End file.
